


Where We Love Is Home

by apieformydean



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dog Tags, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, I couldn't resist, M/M, OTP Feels, Oneshot, Please Don't Hate Me, Sad, mormor, not really slashy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apieformydean/pseuds/apieformydean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about a rather extraordinary couple and the hardest 3 years in their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I shall return...

**Author's Note:**

> For the epic headcanon feels here:  
> http://destinae.tumblr.com/post/75398333197/sebastian-giving-jim-his-dogtags  
> If you have to blame someone, that's her.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew it was going to be a shit day.

Sebastian kept his dog tags.

Not like he wanted to remember the army. No.

He really had no clue why he kept them. Maybe they became a part of his life. There they were anyway, hanging around his neck, all the time. He didn't even take them off when he was sleeping.

-o-

That morning Sebastian woke up with a headache. When his alarm clock went off at 8 a.m., he tried to grab it, but it fell on the floor. He growled while crawling out of bed, his eyes still closed.

He knew it was going to be a shit day. It was raining, heavily. The whole sky was covered with clouds, and the fact it was common in London didn’t make it less depressing. His room was small and dark; the walls were plain grey, and even the bedspread was an ugly shade of blue. Sebastian was annoyed by everything that morning.

He made his way out to the dining room, and found his Boss, sitting at his laptop. Just like he did when they said goodnight ten hours before.

“When did you get up?” Moran asked, his voice hoarse. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up now, because since it was a weekday, he surely had some bastards to kill out there. He waited for a reply, but Moriarty was just staring at the screen, like a lunatic.

Jim’s hair was all messed up, and he was dressed in his pigeon-grey suit, that was the same as the day before. He surely didn’t make it to his bed. He looked like he was free of any kind of awareness of the world around him.

“God, Boss, have you even slept?”

The answer came after some seconds of silence.

“I'm sorry, Bastian.” Jim whispered, and the sniper became wide awake. That was not the way his Boss spoke. And he never apologised. Like, ever. Well, of course he did, like everybody does, but not like he meant it. Not when they had a fight in which James was totally wrong, and they both knew it. Not even after he had a bad day, and Sebastian had to do everything instead of him; all the killing and the paperwork. This time he really meant it.

“Boss?” the sniper asked, trying to look at Jim in the eye, but the Irishman seemed to be frozen.

“I have no other choice” the consulting criminal murmured, still staring blankly at the laptop screen. Suddenly he looked up, eyes bloodshed, and on his face was an expression that Sebastian couldn’t recognize first. “I’m so sorry, tiger.”

And then it hit Moran. Jim was scared. James Moriarty, consulting criminal of London, was scared. Sebastian was speechless; something was frightening enough to scare his Boss.

“Jim, you’d better go to sleep. Now.” the sniper grabbed the laptop, but James’ small hand landed on his wrist. His grip was not firm enough to stop Moran, and that’s why it did. Sebastian wasn’t used to a Boss this unstable, and he found himself scared as well.

“I can’t.” Jim muttered, in a tone that was resigned and melancholic. His expression made the sniper feel like he needed to find the man who made his Boss this upset, and punch the bastard in the fucking face. “I can’t sleep, Sebby. I was up all night, and I checked each and every file of my men… I don’t have a choice. Tiger, forgive me.”

“Would you just stop repeating this shit and tell me what the hell are you talking about?” Sebastian asked, his gaze on the face of Jim, on his pale skin, wide eyes and thin lips.

“I’m talking about a job, tiger.” Jim said, his voice finally starting to come back to normal. “I can’t give it to anybody, only you.”

Sebastian frowned. “And what’s the big deal about it? I’ve killed so many people I lost count, Boss, I think I can manage to kill anybody-”

“It’s not about killing somebody.” Moriarty interrupted. “I don’t want you to kill him, only if unavoidable. You have to rescue Conley. He had a job in France, but he screwed it up.”

Moran was all confused. What did Steven get into this time? And why was Jim so afraid – the word was still unfamiliar in connection with him – of telling it to Sebastian? It made no sense. But, whatever the Boss wanted him to do, sure as hell he did it. “Alright, not killing, only if it’s necessary. Where do I find him?”

“La Santé Prison.”

Jim’s words were said right after Sebastian finished his last sentence. Moriarty was prepared to tell it to him, and the sniper knew exactly what the name meant.

One of the worst prisons in the whole wide world. The name of it – meaning Prison of Good Health in French – was the biggest lie it could be. Sebastian heard about it more than he ever wanted to. The diseases and hunger in there, combined with the cruelty of both prisoners and guards… There are only three escapes in the history of the prison, so going there almost instantly meant dying there. Sebastian swallowed hard. Now he knew why Jim was so tired. He did everything to save him from going there, but they both knew Steve; he was easily brought to speaking by the smallest torture, and they couldn’t let that happen.

“When do I leave?” was all Sebastian asked.

Moran saw surprise appear on Jim’s face, but it vanished in a moment, and his lips curved into a very small, sad smile.

“Tonight.”

Sebastian nodded and pulled Jim up into standing position.

“And now you go and sleep till then.”

Moriarty wanted to say he wasn’t the one obeying anybody, but instead of words the only thing that left his mouth was a yawn. So he let the sniper lead him into his room – four times as big as Sebastian’s own was –, and after he laid across the king-sized bed, he fall asleep immediately.

Moran just looked at him and smiled, and it was the spitting image of Jim’s sad smile. He loved to see him this relaxed. Sebastian was the only one to see him like that, when his Boss was not giving a shit about the “criminal image”, and was only himself, a human being who did need resting. The sniper just sighed, and hoped it was not the last time he could see him like that.

His headache became the smallest pain in the ass, really.

-o-

They were sitting in the land rover Jim owned, parked at the edge of the countryside, with Sebastian behind the wheel.

The whole landscape was beautiful, only the noise of the road was kind of distracting in the distance, but the sunset was wonderful. Not like that any of them would have admitted that. Jim usually noticed those sort of things, but never mentioned them. A hill was black in the horizon, and the sun seemed to literally set peaceful farm there on fire, which was quite a great idea, the consulting criminal thought.

He really needed that sleep, and only got up in the evening. I did take the whole night before to check all his men’s files, and he was desperate to find somebody, _anybody_ instead of Sebby, but no one was good enough. And he didn’t trust any of them like he trusted his Tiger. He couldn’t let that moron Conley to uncover his plans for the future… not even the smallest ones he actually knew about.

The only thing they were talking about during the journey was the plan. Moriarty broke into the system of the prison – _it really wasn’t that difficult_ –, and added Seb’s feigned name – Leonard Bryan – to the new prisoners that month. He needed to be sure Conley couldn’t speak. Jim didn’t want to kill him, just get him back. France was not the best place to be if you were in the network of the consulting criminal.

His thoughts were disturbed by Sebby. Not like the sniper said anything, but he was thinking about something too hard to be ignored, and Jim waited patiently for him to speak.

The blond man was never afraid. And now was really not the right time to be that.

Then the helicopter landed. It was noisy and windy, and when it was over, the sniper felt like he needed to say it.

“I...” Sebastian hesitated. He wanted to make sure Jim would be waiting for him, but he didn't want to be cheesy. Not now. Not when he was about to say goodbye, probably for ever. “I wanted to give you these.” he said instead, taking his dog tags from under his shirt. He griped them once, for the last time, and then let them fall in Moriarty’s held out hand. “I just… don’t want them to get dirty, you know… if I come home, I need them-”

And suddenly, Jim’s lips were on his. The sniper went totally still. His Boss’ lips were soft, but the kiss was rough and all the air left the lungs of the sniper.

Was it really happening, or was it all just in Sebastian’s head? He always found Jim attractive, but hell, he didn’t have any idea that the Irishman felt the same way. If he had, the whole action would have taken place like a year or so ago. But here they were, in that fucking land rover, making out, right before the sniper was sent to die.

Jim’s hand trailed up to tangle in the blond hair and tugged at it. Finally the tension left Sebastian’s body, and despite all the questions in his head, he shut his eyes, pulled Jim closer by his tie and put his other hand in the smaller man’s black curls. It wasn’t the moment to ask why. The Irishman’s lips opened, and Moran slipped his tongue in between them. A small, appreciating moan escaped the consulting criminal’s mouth and sent a shiver down the sniper’s spine, right between his tights.

At the exact moment when Jim realized this, he pulled away. Their foreheads still touched, but the distance was just enough to see his sniper was all disturbed, confused and aroused. Those pretty blue eyes were full of lust and Jim needed a moment to calm himself down, than a small smile played on his lips.

“ _When_ , Tiger” he whispered. “ _When_ you come back. And we’ll continue this at the exact moment you walk in my door.”

Sebastian was totally mind-fucked. His jaw dropped, and sure as shit he didn’t feel any hardness in his groin. He really didn’t want to think about the hundreds of questions racing in his head.

“I’ll come home, kitten, I swear.” he murmured. He had no idea where he got the courage to call Jim that, but the consulting criminal seemed to like the nickname. Sebastian closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the scent of Jim, to treasure it for the harder times, to have something that reminds him of his Boss. Even if that was the smell of a ridiculously expensive perfume.

Moriarty just pushed his nose against Seb’s, and kissed him again, but softly this time, barely touching his lips.

“I hope you’ll never forget this promise.” Jim muttered. After a moment, he pulled away completely, fixing his tie. “I won’t say goodbye. So, see you soon, Tiger.” And with that he pushed the car’s door open. Sebastian did the same and grabbed his bag from the backseat. The doors closed with a loud slam, and Moran walked towards the helicopter, with Jim by his side.

The sniper got in, throwing his bag pack on the seat next to himself. The pilot was looking at him in a strange way; although the car’s windows were shadowed, Sebastian wasn’t sure the man didn’t know what went on in there.

“We’re gonna take off or something?” he asked in a grumpy tone, and the pilot started the helicopter with a shrug. Moran sighed, and watched Jim walking back to the land rover, and stopping next to it. The Irishman watched the helicopter rise, and he locked his gaze with Sebastian’s, and neither of them gave a shit about the pilot’s non-approving noises. In the last moment the sniper could see the consulting criminal’s features, Jim was smiling and winked at him.

Sebastian couldn’t help it, had to grin.

_What a fucked-up moment_ , he thought. There he was, sitting on the helicopter, leaving for the almost-certain death, and he was grinning like a mad man, at his Boss, who sent him away, who was putting on his dog tags, and who was mercilessly kissing him just minutes ago.

Fucked-up, yes. But it was his life, the life he had to protect, because now, after years – _hell, probably a decade?_ – he had somebody who waited for him to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, but I couldn't not write it. I had to.  
> I'd be the happiest person in the world if you'd let me know what you think about this little piece of hell c:  
> Thank you ^_^  
> Oh, and also, tell me if you'd like me to continue it, coz I dunno if I should, or if it's okay as a one-shot.


	2. ...to laugh and love

 Two years, ten months, three weeks and a day. Seb knew it was crazy to keep such track of time, but he couldn't help it. One of the few possessions he could have taken with himself was a razor, but on the first day, when he realized he'd be too different from the others with shaved face, he broke it into pieces. However, he kept the blade so he could cut small rods on his arm. Every survived day was a new cut.

 He knew he had to get out the prison as fast as he could, because staying wasn't exactly pleasure.

 The rumors were not for nothing. Sebastian had the worst time in his life. He himself was a tough man, but the cruelty of the guards never stopped to amaze him. It was horrible. Almost the whole set of prisoners died while he was in there. Seb had to struggle every day to keep himself and Steve alive.

 He found Conley in one and a half month. The man was in the worst condition Sebastian had ever seen him. His face was white as a sheet, and he was a bag of bones. His clothes were torn and dirty, smelling of urine and blood. Also, paranoia hit him harder than ever before. Steven wasn't exactly a weak man, but the prison broke him totally.

 Also, he had a fight with some jerk, so he was separated in a cell for more aggressive men. Sebastian had to beat up some bloke badly to get near Steve.

 They planned the escape together, which, well, means Seb told the man the plan, who made a fuss about everything. Although Steve wanted to get away as fast as possible, Seb insisted to plan it properly.

 They wanted to make a rebellion. Jim and Sebastian agreed it would be the sign. A man from his Boss' network was watching over the prison all day every day, and when the chaos broke out, he got into a helicopter and rescue them. The rebellion would have made a mess, and they had the opportunity to sneak out without getting any attention. All they had to do was manipulating the other prisoners, and finding one, who would lead the whole thing. The plan was perfect, however, it needed time. They couldn't take the risk of drawing attention on themselves by leading the rebellion.

 When the day arrived, a man named Franz took the lead, and as soon as the alarm went off, Seb and Steven followed the plan, out of the prison through the channel under the building.

 And, after almost three years, they were on the helicopter of their Boss again.

 Sebastian couldn't believe they were on the way home, after - how many days was it? _1052_ \- He counted the rods all over again, for the hundredth time.

 Those weren't the only scars he had. When they took off, he checked his face in the mirror he got from the pilot. His hair, which was shaved, like, five months ago, was quite in a good condition. Not like his face. He had a black eye, which he got just the other day. His cheekbones and forehead was covered with cuts and wounds, those he received from a guard, who - Seb wished - was already beaten to death by the others.

 Conley was asleep, and Seb couldn't blame him. It was like a ride to hell and back. The sniper wished he himself could sleep so easily. His body was exhausted of being in charge for months in a row, planning the escape, but his mind was bothered by all kinds of thoughts.

 Partly about Jim.

 Fuck, _all_ he was thinking about was Jim. That kiss... There were nights in the prison when he thought he just imagined it; that he went insane in there, and only thought it was the reward for him if he made it home in one piece. He would get Jim, and they lived together happy ever after.

 No, he never believed that. It was not a suitable ending for their story. The consulting criminal and the sniper... it was not a fairy-tale.

 They reached London. Seb would have been too proud to confess but his eyes were so pleased to see the huge buildings and rushing cars - and damn, even the small, hurrying people. The pilot - not the same as the one who took him to France - peered back above his shoulder. He was young, wearing sunglasses and a huge smile. 'Welcome home, Mr. Moran.'

 

 James' last job ended at 8.40 pm, so he called an employee to take him home. Usually Sebby did it for him, since the sniper lived in his house, but after he left for Paris, Jim had to find somebody else.

 The criminal had a man, who kept an eye on Sebastian for him, reporting all the fights the sniper got into, and just everything about him. It was comforting to get news about him. Just knowing he was still breathing.

 However, one day, his man had just... disappeared. It was for six months already, and James knew that his tiger was probably already...

 No, he couldn't think about that. Almost three years, and he still wasn't okay with the thought of letting Bastian go. It didn't seem fair. All the jobs they did together, the battles they fought, the way they were able to comfort each other... It was unbelievable to end all of that this way.

 He got out of the car, and passed along the lawn to the front door. The sky was already black, and the public lights were left behind, since the house was almost in the forest. Nobody was brave enough to get closer to it, they all knew it was wiser to stay away.

 Mostly that was the reason Jim was shocked to realize that the door was already open.

 His hand fell on the knife, which he used on the job, on his belt, and grabbed it. He wasn't scared, rather mad. Who _dared_ to break in their -  >his< \- house?!

 Jim kicked in the door lightly, so it opened a little wider, and he stepped in. Noises came from the bedroom upstairs, so he took his way in that direction.

 As he got nearer, he found, that the bedside lamp's light was shining through the crack between the door and the door frame. He got closer and glanced inside.

 There was a man in there. Heavy body structure, he ( _obviously_ a male) was literally a mountain of muscles.

 Fingers tight around the knife, Jim silently opened the door. The man didn't seem to realize him, he was searching for something in the nightstand. Probably money.

 James sneaked up to him, and was about to cut his throat, when the man started to laugh. It was quiet but sent a shiver up the consulting criminal's spine. Was it... was him... it couldn't be...

 'Is that the way to greet your tiger?' he asked, turning around.

 

 Sebastian got out of the helicopter on the top of a building - _St. Bart's, was it?_ -, avoiding to seem suspiciously happy, walked down the stairs, finally reaching the streets of London.

 The dirty and crowded it was, Seb didn't realize how much he missed it till then.

 He called a cab, and when it arrived, his stomach unbelievably tight.

 Their house. It was all the same. Hell, nothing changed. Except he himself. The mansion - because it was a _fucking_ mansion - was dark and quiet. Jim obviously wasn't home.

_You'll be damn surprised, baby_ \- Seb thought and chuckled. The spare key, he got from the pilot, was hanging around his neck, so he let himself in.

 

 Jim stood in front of Sebastian, completely numb. _I must be fucking intoxicated_ \- he thought. There was no chance for Bastian... his Bastian...

 'Miss me?' the blond sniper smiled smugly, taking the knife out of James' hand.

 The consulting criminal wasn't aware of the fact that his hand curled into a fist, only when he punched Sebastian in the face.

 The sniper wasn't prepared for such reaction. He took a few steps back, eyes wide, his hand on his nose. He was sure it broke - for the fifth time in three years.

 ' _You_ _twat_.' James whispered. 'The communication has broken down for half a year now. What the hell were you thinking, Bastian? You just come here, and I almost cut your fucking throat!' the consulting criminal was already shouting. 'You idiot! You freaking moron! You goddamn son of a-'

 Jim was cut off by Sebastian, who pulled the smaller man in his arms, kissing him breathlessly. James wanted to break away first, but then gave in, letting Seb to take control.

 When they parted, both breathing heavily, Sebastian was grinning like a 5-year-old in the candy store.

 'I missed you, too, kitten.'

 'Don't you dare calling me that again.'

 'Or what?' the tall, blond sniper grinned even wider.

 'Or I'll _skinnn_ you. But first' the smaller man pulled Seb towards the bed. 'I've promised you something last time, if I remember correctly.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey bbys, I know it took me awfully long time, but here it is, and you, who waited for it, deserve a hundred kisses and candy :33  
> I really hope it wasn't disappointing:D


End file.
